Frozen Moment
by Lamanth
Summary: ONE SHOT – If I could only ever have one dance with you, I’d want to play a song that lasts forever. [KaiMimi]


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Beyblade or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.) Nor do I own the song 'Concrete Angel' by Martina McBride.

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Summery 

ONE SHOT – If I could only ever have one dance with you, I'd want to play a song that lasts forever. (Kai/Mimi)

Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed, as are random acts of worship.

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Lamb: This is probably about as close to a self-insert fic as I am likely to get. 

**Muse:** Get on with it already, it's not like anyone cares.

Lamb: Gee thanks for the support.

**Muse:** Any time:

_Dedi:_ World War Three round two. This fic is dedicated to **.angel.del.silencio. **cus she was the one who had to put up with Lamb freaking out over MSN.

Lamb: My description of events that.

_Dedi:_ So **.angel.del.silencio. **this is for you.

Lamb: As always sorry for any bad spelling and if you feel the need to throw things at me please wait until I've hidden behind the sofa kay!?

M**use: **On with the fic!

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_Oh I wanna dance with somebody,  
I wanna feel the heat with somebody,  
Yeah I wanna dance with somebody,  
With somebody who loves me,_

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**Frozen Moment**

The music washed over her in a cool soothing wave, as she appeared to move easily to the rhythm of the dance, seeming to almost glide across the highly polished floor. But inside her heart was racing and she was sure that he must be able to feel the trembling of her body. Deftly he lead her out into a graceful spin, the silk of her short white dress whispering around her long legs and as she checked forwards she dared to glance at his face and felt her heart leap. It was the sweetest pain she had ever known, dancing in his arms. A constant battle to remain focused and not allow herself to get swept along in the ecstasy of the moment.

_She walks to school with the lunch she packed,  
Nobody knows what she's holdin' back,  
Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday,  
She hides the bruises with linen and lace,_

With easy he pulled her back into ballroom hold, and it took all her willpower to prevent her eyes from falling closed at the sensation of his hand of her bare back. She held her frame the way he had told her; not too much presser but still being there and under her left hand she could clearly feel the definition of well-defined muscles. Let anyone look at him and say that real men did not dance, he was a god made flesh and dancing with him was like falling under a spell. An art of subtle seduction he had made his own.

_The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask,  
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask,  
Bearing the burden of a secret storm,  
Sometimes she wishes she was never born,_

Her lips moved silently as she counted the Rumba rhythm out in her head; 2,3,4,1. 2,3,4,1. Always move on the second beat not the first, it was natural now to do so, except when it was he that was holding her every lesson she had learned seemed to fly from her mind like butterflies on a summer wind. So wrapped up in her concentration, her determination not to make a mistake, that when he spoke she started and inwardly winced as she landed flat footed rather than on the ball of her foot.

_Through the wind and the rain,  
She stands hard as a stone,  
In a world that she can't rise above,  
But her dreams give her wings,  
And she flies to a place where she's loved,  
Concrete angel,_

Looking up into his face and for a moment the world consisted of nothing but the two eyes of burning crimson that where watching her face, studying every feature. Then he spoke again, and she nodded trying to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. Once more she spun out stretching out her arm, extending right to the very tips of her fingers, before he swiftly pulled her back to him and wrapped an arm around her midsection, pulling her tightly to him. She responded by placing one hand on his upper back and reaching for the heavens with the other as he pivoted from foot to foot with her held tight in his embrace.

_Somebody cries in the middle of the night,  
The neighbours hear, but they turn out the lights,  
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate,  
When morning comes it'll be too late,_

The feel of his body pressed so close to her own was intoxicating, and it was so hard to keep her emotions from her face as she obediently obeyed his instruction; _look at me_. But was what the rumba was all about, the connection between the dancers after years she had learned that you danced as much with your eyes as with your body. With your eyes you could make those watching feel whatever you wanted them to, but with the rumba, the dance of love, you were to have eyes only for your partner.

_Through the wind and the rain,  
She stands hard as a stone,  
In a world that she can't rise above,  
But her dreams give her wings,  
And she flies to a place where she's loved,  
Concrete angel,_

Checking forwards she pulled herself up through her ribcage and back and turned into him for the pause beat, and something in her trilled at the intense look on his striking face. Without missing a step she turned to check the other way, mentally berating herself for being such a silly fool, that look was just another part of the dance and to think otherwise was stupid. It was a gift and a curse, she thought, as he pulled her into shadow hold so that he was behind her one hand on her him the other holding her own hand. Why was it she had to excel at a dance that demanded so much intimate interplay between partners? And then end up dancing it with a man she could only ever dream about?

_A statue stands in a shaded place,  
An angel girl with an upturned face,  
A name is written on a polished rock,  
A broken heart that the world forgot,_

The slow lilting quality of the song combined with the soulful voice that sang and her unhappy thoughts made her suddenly feel so melancholy she thought she might cry. Then he swung her round and pulled her tight to him, their legs intertwined as he rocked with her back and forth. Through the thin material of his black trousers and black polo-shirt she could feel every push and tightening of his body like some form of exquisite torture. She felt sure that he must be able to see the longing that burnt with in her, that he could surly see it swirling in the depths of her eyes.

_Through the wind and the rain,  
She stands hard as a stone,  
In a world that she can't rise above,  
But her dreams give her wings,  
And she flies to a place where she's loved,  
Concrete angel,_

Instinct told them that the song was nearing an end and taking her hand in his he pushed her as far from him as their extended arms would allow before snapping her back to him. Lightly she pushed off of her left foot, springing elegantly into his waiting arms. Her right leg wrapped around his waist while her left she stretched out behind her so that as he spun holding her hands high above them, her free foot skimmed some six inches above the floor. As the last notes started to fade he lowered her to the ground, leg still straight, as that when the song ended he was stood over her holding both her hands in his, while she supported all her weight on her right leg, her left still stretched out behind her.

Elegantly she drew her legs together and he helped her to her feet. She tried not to shiver when he placed a hand on her back to guide her back to her seat, and despite the head goose bumps erupted on her flesh when he absentmindedly brushed a stray strand of azure hair back over her shoulder.

"Hey Mims!" A pretty redhead with smiling silver eyes said. "That looked amazing."

Ming-Ming smiled slightly and nodded her head in thanks before leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. Fighting the butterflies that swooped in her stomach and the swirling sensation in her head, why was it that so brief a contact could result in such an extreme reaction. She had never meant to fall for him, from the start she had been aware that there was something about him that she found attractive. But she had just put that down to the fact that is was so rare to find a hot guy who was an amazing dancer and a straight one to boot.

Opening her warm honey orbs, she saw him dancing a waltz with a slender lilac haired female in her late teens with expressive china blue eyes, and deep within her she felt something small wither and die, like a flower in snow. It had started out as a simple crush but it had started to grow out of her control, until he was even invading her dreams. She watched him twirl with the slender girl in his arms and sighed deeply. They looked amazing together; their steps fit so perfectly together that they might have been dancing on air. Why would he ever look at her when there were women like that falling at his feet?

"Mims, are you Ok?" Noting the blunette's downcast expression, the redhead placed a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

"I'm fine Sal," The azure haired girl lied. "Just tired that's all."

For a moment Salima looked as if she were going to question what her friend had just said, but instead just nodded and turned her head back to watch the couples on the floor. Ming-Ming too looks back to the floor, too the person at the centre of her emotional storm. Why did it have to be him, there was no way for her to avoid him as she would normally to with any crush, for seeing them only made your heart fly with hope, and there was not hope for her where he was concerned.

They glided past her and from one brief frozen moment she could have sworn that he looked to her and smiled slightly. But in a flash time had raced on and she was left feeling more desolate than she had thought possible. Mumbling some excuses to her friend about wanting some fresh air she swiftly made her way out the door and into the heat of the night.

The sky was pitch black and the stars where shinning fever bright in its inky depths. But her eyes focused on the pale sliver of the crescent moon, watched it so intently that her eyes burned with the effort and began to fill with tears. Why? She begged the silent moon. Why did it have to be him that she fell for? Why of all the people in the entire world did it have to be Kai Hiwatari?

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Lamb: Yeah I know, I know! I'm a dappy mare who would be better off doing something to get what she wants rather than sit around a mop. Right Muse? 

**Muse:** Took the words right out of my mouth, though I would have called you a bitch not a mare.

_Dedi:_ Isn't that nice. Anyway **.angel.del.silencio. **we hope you liked it and please let us know what you thought.

Please R and R I'd love to know what you thought.

Big luv see ya

Lamanth


End file.
